Lúg Naur
by SilverLadyWest
Summary: Legolas had always been the loyal prince of Mirkwood. But when on a routine mission he stumbles across twelve dwarves he finds he cannot ignore his restlessness any longer. Because of the dark promise of an orc and the words of a hobbit Thranduil opens his heart again before its too late to fix his relationship with his son. But dark things loom, and Mirkwood must be prepared. AU.


**The premise of this story is "What if Thranduil decided to help the Dwarves?". Of course there's a lot that goes into this decision and everything. It will be more than just the good nature of his heart, mostly because it's based largely off of the movie series the Hobbit and what Thranduil is like there (because that version is much clearer than what it already seen in the books). Legolas of course will be heavily involved, and even going into the Lord of the Rings series. But a Hobbit, some choice words, and some news from Orcs will motivate this decision and begin to change the way he thinks about things.**

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 **Basically its started a trickle effect. What Thranduil does before and after the Battle of the Five Armies will begin to heavily influence the story of the Lord of the Rings and the way that the Elves become involved. This part of the story is going to dramatically change the way that Dwarves and Elves begin to view each other (at least eventually because Dragon Sickness will still be a thing in this story). However it is going to shape Middle Earth quickly and begin to set yet more events into motion. Fun.**

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 **This is the book that corresponds with The Hobbit, and since Legolas is the main character it will be beginning in Mirkwood. I've tried my best to translate Sindarin into English for this book (and I will put what is being said in brackets in English for everyone else to read) but I am not a good translator and so I'm making due with an online translator while I'm attempting to learn the Elvish languages. This is Lúg Naur or "Dragon Fire".**

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 **There will be changes to this, mostly because I'm adapting it into my own kind of world. It will mostly follow the world of Middle Earth with a few adjustments to make more sense for my own adaptation of the story, but it will remain mostly the same.**

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Chapter One: Ill Tidings

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Legolas Greenleaf was used to the darkness. It haunted his home, the place where he had lived his whole life under the rule of his father, Thranduil. Greenwood, it was once called, but not it went by the name of Mirkwood. Dark things lurked under the trees, spells and monsters of all kinds. Still, his father had once told him that it was the duty of the Sindar to lead the woodland elves, the Silvan elves. That had been long ago, and his father's temper had taken a turn for the worse after the death of his mother -of whom Legolas had little memory of- but they remained. This place was his home, and he was proud to defend it with his darker haired kin. For it was true that the silvan elves were far less fair than others of their kin. But that did not make Thranduil or Legolas any less dangerous than the rest of the people in their kingdom. No, if anything, their purer looking forms only disguised their true nature far more than that of the others here beneath the trees.

Silver blonde hair and silver blue eyes flashed through the forest trees, as at home there as any of the darker haired guards but far more visible as well. Few creatures, even the orcs that sometimes came through here, would look up though, and he was far more adept at hiding within plain sight than any might think. Though the woods were dark and his fairer appearance would seem to give him a disadvantage, he had been trained and raised in these woods. He was no stranger to remaining hidden. Behind him came a the group he was leading on yet another expedition in the forest, the same pale, pointy eared kin that fell under the rule of his father.

Legolas was not very well known, even by their kin in other lands, except that he was Thranduil's son and he was good with weapons (as were most of the Mirkwood elves). His kill laid mostly in a bow, but he had not neglected his training in the art of swords, knives, and just about every other weapon his father could get his hands on. Still, Legolas was known -unlike his wrathful father- for having a gentler disposition. He was more of a shadow, hidden among the leaves. Thranduil had long kept his people hidden within his stone fortress.

Few Mirkwood elves ever left the edge of the trees, and the woodland realm was known for producing powerful warriors, not usually seen or heard. His father had never told him why, but he suspected that after the death of his mother he was afraid to allow him to simply wander off and get killed. The same went for the rest of the army, which lay silently in wait under the trees until called upon to defend their realm. They were more legend than fact now to the men of Laketown. Still, Legolas did love the trees and his home, and he was loyal to his king, even if he did not understand why his father did what he did. So when he ordered him to lead a company out to destroy the spiders that haunted the trees, he did so with no questions.

At his side was the captain of his father's guard, a dear friend of his. It was the silvan she-elf, Tauriel. She was young, far younger than even he -who could still remember bits and pieces of the battle against Angmar far away when that dread kingdom had once reigned- and there was a love of stars and a curiosity for the outside world in her heart. Dark green eyes, long pointed ears and long red hair adorned her, as well as the greens and browns that their people so favored.

It had been many a long year since his father had allowed any of them to venture beyond the walls of their forest. He could see a longing in her eyes for the world beyond the trees, but his father had decided that hiding from the world was far better than letting the evils in. Still, Legolas tried to ease his friend's need with tales that came to him from the court of the world that lay beyond the borders of their land, and this did not seem to do much good.

Still, his keen ears and eyes were the first to spot the disturbance among the trees. The filthy spiders were back, and it looked as if they were attempting to chase some prey that they had found. It was the shouts and clamber of battle that told Legolas that it was not simple prey, but people. Some of his people often told him, that though sometimes he imitated his father's stern glare and gaze, he bore his mother's temperament. However when needed in battle, it was his father's wrath that could be seen through him, not his mother's more calm and kind nature. Legolas could not remember much of his mother, but something must have stayed with him to make this true.

Still, it wasn't long before the other elves heard it, and Tauriel looked ready to leap forward into battle. She still waited for him to give the say so, as it was his party after all and the elves were taught to follow the rule of their king and prince to the death. An elf's loyalty was hard won, but it was never forgotten when it was won. Legolas nodded, a vague motion of his head, controlled and graceful as always, and in the same motion he had reached for a blade. The dwarves had just noticed him, and their motion had stopped suddenly. He took that time to go dashing through the trees, his company close behind as he grabbed hold of the spider's strand, swinging easily down it.

He landed heavily upon the spider whose thread he had been using, driving its face hard into the ground and killing it beneath its own weight, while the rest of the spiders were fleeing above to be shot down by the other elves, who hurried beneath him to join them. He slid under another spider, cutting it open with the blade even as his other arm pulled out his bow. As the dwarves readied their blades for a counter attack, he replaced the knife to draw an arrow, which was soon notched in place and stuck right into the face of one of the tallest dwarves and obviously the leader of the company if the way the others were following him were any indication. As the rest prepared their weapons against the threat, the rest of his kin appeared, bows ready, and he glared upon the dwarves.

"Do not think I won't kill you, dwarf," Legolas growled, his voice taking on the sinister and commanding tone that his father could use.

And he had reason to be suspicious. Dwarves had not come to these parts in many long years, and they were no friends of the elves. Often wars had been sparked between his kin and the dwarves over treasures and disputes over payments. Legolas, for his part, did not know or care whose version of the story was true. He only knew that it often caused bloodshed and needless battles. It was evident in the way that these dwarves held their weapons, even wisely lowering them against a larger force, that they longed to fight the elves.

Legolas would have no bloodshed here in these parts. No first he would take them to his father, who would know what to make of these strangers. Few people ventured into Mirkwood anymore, and those that did were not friendly. He thought even of adding "it would be my pleasure" at the end, but decided against it after all. There was a desperation in their eyes, driven more than just the fear of the hordes of spiders, but a fear of the forest itself. That Legolas could understand. He had long lived under these trees, and in happiness as much as he could. He did not fear them, but he had seen the same fear in the eyes of others. So he refrained, if only just. Something else haunted their steps.

The dwarves were unhappy, but the sound of another voice, calling for help, soon caught Legolas's ears. He did not raise his eyes away from the face of the dark haired leader, but he did motion slightly with his head in the direction of the voice even as one of the lighter haired dwarves called out a name. Within a few moments he could hear the nearly silent footsteps of Tauriel as she stole away in the same direction. With permission now granted, she swiftly moved in to kill the spider that was attacking one of the dwarves who had been separated. Quickly and efficiently, like all of the warriors of Mirkwood (there were few members of his father's kingdom who were not), the spider was killed and she herded a young, nearly beardless dwarf into their midst.

"Search them," Legolas ordered, and Tauriel repeated the order in elvish, as if to add weight behind his words.

Even as his kin stepped forward, his eyes kept flicking up towards the trees, a feeling of unease falling over him. He slowly shook his head and stepped forward to a red haired dwarf even as various weapons were found on the person of one of the dwarves -who seemed to have a fondness for carrying many weapons- and glanced down. His nimble fingers quickly stole their way into his tunic, finding a silver piece that inside held the drawn pictures of two creatures, dwarves most likely. He ignored the dwarf's remarks that it was private and indignation. Perhaps, if he had not felt such a foreboding, he might have tried to goad the dwarf into anger just for fun by asking if the female pictured was his brother and the child was a goblin mutant.

Something stayed his hand though, even before the dwarf in front of him had raised his eyes in alarm, looking ready to shout something. Legolas did not need the warning however, even as he slightly turned the silver in his hand. It glinted, just slightly as the glass that held in the pictures in place reflected the dull light beneath the canopy above off of something. Metal, and a metal that he knew well. It was an arrowhead, but dark in color and unlike the ones that they usually carried. He knew the shape of it as well, as he had hunted these creatures in the past. An orc.

"Look out," the dwarf cried, even as Legolas began moving.

He wasn't sure if it was simply a mutual hatred of the orcs, or if some other decision that he could not place had motivated him to attempt a warning, but the elves were certainly quick to move. Legolas spun even as the arrow was released, tossing the piece of dwarf wrought metal forward. It caught the arrow in its flight and knocked it from the air. The dwarf behind him gave a cry of frustration or perhaps anger at the treatment of what he obviously thought a precious item, but Legolas doubted it was even chipped from the short flight and fall.

He wasted no time in finding out either, because there were several orcs amid the trees. He pulled up his bow and another arrow, letting it fly straight into the throat of the offending orc even as his kin began to turn to face the oncoming horde as well. There were not many, but there were enough that their capture of the dwarves had been put on hold. Some of Durin's Folk were even bold enough to reclaim their weapons, and no move was made to stop them.

There were not many, but enough that Legolas gave no order to stop the dwarves from fighting. Though many were picked out of the trees by elvish arrows, those that made it to the ground soon found the dwarves blades as well. He might have perhaps worried that the dwarves would have attacked their previously would be captors, except that he could see hatred of these orcs engrained in their bones far deeper than that they held for elves. Mistrust towards elves, even a dark dislike, but not hatred. And that was enough that for now, he could consider them allies.

" _Leave one alive,_ " he cried to his kin in elvish, though the dwarves clearly did not understand him. " _We take one to my father._ "

Soon the orcs were falling, leaving behind a trail of only broken and battered bodies. A few of his kin were injured, and only one of the creatures remained alive, as he had ordered. The dwarves, standing awkwardly in a clump but being wise enough not to flee from the elves who could turn on them just as quickly. Even so a few of them seemed to be searching for something, which he did not know. Trusting his kin to watch the injured orc, he turned his attention instead towards the trees, scanning for any other threats that may lie in wait. Yet everyone paused in surprise, even the dwarves, as the orc began to laugh and speak.

It was not in the filthy tongue of the orcs, or even in the common language that most of them knew and spoke. No instead it was in elvish. It was broken, foul sounding and terrible unlike the way that it was spoken by elves and even sometimes men, but it was recognizable as elvish. If only barely. And even then, it was not the Sindarin language that was usually spoken by the elves here in Middle Earth, nor the much more popular Nandorin spoken here in Mirkwood as it was most popular with the Silvan elves. The orc was speaking Quenya, the language of the high elves. It was a language used for spells, for powerful purposes. And it was not a language that one could lie in. Speaking in it could prove perilous, even for elves.

" _You know nothing,_ " the creature said, all eyes traveling towards him except for those of the elvish prince he was speaking to. " _Your world will burn._ "

" _What are you talking about?_ " Legolas asked carefully in the same language, rising to meet his bait just a little. If anything, it only made the orc laugh more and continue as before.

" _Our time has come again,_ " the Orc laughed. " _My master serves the One. Do you understand now, elfling? Death is upon you. The flames of war are upon you!_ "

The dwarves may not have understood what was being said, but even as the Orc began to laugh again many of the elder elves recoiled. The younger, like Tauriel, were looking in confusion upon their kin, but they had no answers for them. Legolas was old enough to remember a nameless shadow, a dark fear that terrorized Middle Earth. He did not remember much, but the way that it was spoken brought upon him a fear that he could not explain. He did not blink, and for a second he did not breathe as he tried to remember why it inspired such terror. The answer evaded him, but he knew that most likely his father would know the answer.

"Bring him," he said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.

"And the dwarves?" Tauriel asked.

"They must come too," he answered.

"Now wait just a minute," the red haired dwarf cried, ignoring the old white haired dwarf as he smacked his arm to silence him. "We just helped you with that battle. Are you still going to haul us off like common criminals?"

"My orders are absolute," Legolas replied, turning to look at him. "Trespassers in our lands must be taken to the king."

"We're not trespassers, sir," the older dwarf said, trying to smooth things over. "We were merely passing through and found ourselves lost. We were recommended this road by Beorn and Gandalf the Grey."

"Mithrandir?" Legolas asked in surprise, turning to look at the dwarves again. Clearly the elvish name was lost on them. He shook his head. "Never the less, you must come. It is that, or starving here in the forest when you have clearly lost your path." He turned his eyes to the trees again. "Mirkwood has grown sick, very sick. You will soon be in far more peril than before if you do not take this offer."

There was silence as the dwarves digested this information. Obviously, dying in the forest wasn't a pleasant thought, especially not one that even the elves could grow nervous while traveling within. Slowly the dwarves turned to one another, whispering to each other and trying to make up their minds. It was obvious that some didn't want to take his offer, not fond of elves, and others were not fond of the idea of wandering for the rest of their lives in a forest that they couldn't escape from. At length the leader, with a rather short beard but strong build for a dwarf. He eyed him with a clear mistrust, not that he could say much. Most people did when they learned that he was from the woodland realm. There were terrible rumors about their kind.

"And what of your king?" he asked. "I know of Thranduil. Will he honor your word?" Legolas slowly turned to look at him.

"I cannot say," he replied honestly. Legolas made it a habit to answer everyone as honestly as he could. "but I would have more ability to change his mind than any other in this realm."

"And how did you gain such a right?" the dwarf asked. His tone suggested that he did not trust him for saying such a thing, and his gaze was hard, as if he expected betrayal. It was Tauriel who answered, quickly stepping forward for her prince.

"Watch your tongue," she hissed. "This is Legolas Greenleaf of the woodland realm. And son of Thranduil, the king of these lands."

" _That is enough, Tauriel,_ " Legolas quietly cautioned her with a raised hand. Slowly she lowered her gaze and bowed her head, but she said no more.

Still, there was a change in the way the dwarves were now looking at him. Some of them, like the leader, were looking at him with more mistrust than before, even something almost like hatred. It seems that they felt his father had wronged them in the past before, but even Legolas couldn't have guessed as to why that was. There were many dwarves that had come from Erebor once, but he doubted anyone would travel near the mountain while the dragon still lived. And there was no way that anyone would be foolish enough to bring the wrath of the serpent out of the mountain either. Still, his father had turned away from dwarves in need before, after the dragon attacked and even as they fled from these lands beneath the trees.

There were a few however, who bowed their heads to him quickly, as if unsure how to not offend him. Legolas was not easily offended however, though he did notice the attempt at being polite to the prince of another country. The one that did this first was the oldest, if the silver white of his beard was anything to go off of. Others, one that had a strangely shaped beard and seemed the most naive of the bunch was quick to follow, as well as two who seemed to be rather similar in facial structure, family perhaps? It was difficult to tell.

"I will do what I can," Legolas assured the dwarves again, before turning and speaking quickly in elvish and ignoring the orc who was still muttering and laughing to himself. " _We move now. The dwarves will come with us._ "

"What about Bilbo?" one of the dwarves called suddenly, and Legolas turned slowly to regard them. Many of them seemed to again be searching for something, but they didn't seem to be able to find what it was.

"That is no dwarvish name," Legolas said carefully, unsure of what their reaction would be. Many of them had stopped, as if they were unsure how to respond to him.

"He is no dwarf," the eldest finally explained. "but a Hobbit. A Halfling," he added, seeing confusion at the term. That at least, Legolas recognized. "who has been traveling with us for some time."

"I will set a watch for him," Legolas assured them.

He turned his eyes instead to Tauriel, nodding his head in the direction of the forest before them, and she quickly nodded. Without saying a word she and three others turned away from the dwarves, lifted their weapons, and silently slipped away into the trees. He doubted there would be much danger here, but he didn't want to take any chances either. They would have to be careful and they all knew it. With that done, he turned to the rest of his own company and simply inclined his head. It was an assurance to them, that he knew what he was doing and that they wouldn't be harmed by the dwarves under his watch. The other elves began to hand back the various weapons and items they had taken from the dwarves earlier, including the silver locket.

To the dwarves it no doubt seemed very mysterious. Many times the men of Laketown spoke to each other in low voices when they thought the elves were not near enough to hear, speaking with awe and perhaps fear at similar instances. They often said that elves were mysterious folk and sometimes they even claimed they were unnatural because they were such a long lived people. Legolas had heard much from many men, about how fair elves were, or cruel. It all depended upon the kinds of elves that they had met in the past, and if they had received a warm welcome or not. He was old enough to realize that there many views and people, each different. Still, the dwarves took back their weapons and trinkets carefully, searching them as if for injury.

They found none, and Legolas at last tore his eyes from the trees and raised an arm, gesturing for the dwarves to follow him. Some of his people dragged the orc back behind them, and the dwarves followed along as if with worry. Still, Legolas knew his way through the forest well. He knew every path by heart from his younger wanderings, from before the forest was sick and his father would allow him space to venture beyond his side sometimes. It wasn't long before he had managed to find a path that quickly led them to a bridge over a rushing river, which led right to the front doors. The rock on either side, in great columns, were carved into tree like shapes, and the doors were blue and locked tight with magic with intricate designs as well. Even the Mirkwood elves, who lived within a cave, treasured beauty and grace in their homes.

Legolas stopped at the gate, pausing as he heard the sound of what could be perhaps a footfall scuffing against the bridge. He turned to look, but there was no sign of anyone who could make the sound. It certainly was no dwarf sound, nor orc, because it was a soft step. Men didn't dare approach the front gates because that would mean trying to reach it through the forest. It was not an elf either however, because the sound was muffled, as if by bare feet. His eyes carefully scanned the area, but he didn't hear the sound again. By now, he was suspecting perhaps that someone had followed them, maybe even their mysterious "hobbit". He didn't show that he was suspicious however, and just turned to make his way inside, and the doors were closed behind him.

The patter of bare feet on the stone floor however, even over the din of the dwarves reached his ears and he realized that he had been right. They had been followed inside, even though that sounded highly unlikely. There were probably plenty of ways to walk unseen, so he doubted his ears were wrong. He paused only a second, noting that the sound continued to follow after the dwarves for a while, before he stepped forward as well. He wouldn't be able to change his father's mind much, but perhaps he could speak in a way to keep them out of the dungeons.

Still, even Legolas knew better than to try and hide them and speak to his father before showing them to him. Thranduil was not a patient king, and he was quick to leap to the front of the party, turning and leading them onwards and motioning to the dwarves to be quiet. It was nearly impossible to move here without walking in single file, and it was difficult to pass another. The elves that called this beautiful place home were long used to the twisting and winding paths that resembled the roots beneath the forest outside. Daylight streamed in from above, where the caves weren't completely closed off to the heavens, but amber lights otherwise lined the paths and gave light to those in the gloom below. With practiced ease he led the dwarves towards the throne room.

He called it a throne room, but it was really more like a throne with a small area with which to speak from. Sheer drops on either side would stop any fools from trying to assassinate the king, as well as make the city easily defensible for those who knew their way around it. His father sat upon a huge throne, hewn from wood to resemble giant antlers on either side of his head. Then the wooden arches surrounded it as well, giving plenty of sight lines towards the rest of the kingdom below, for it was the highest point. Elves, naturally surefooted, did not fear to fall from these heights, and the elves of Mirkwood were more surefooted than most.

Legolas raised a hand, motioning for the dwarves to stop, and they did so. Few of his kin had left, going to take the orc down to the dungeons where there it would stay until his father would call for its presence. His father, no doubt waiting in his throne and attending to his business as it was open court for the day, could not be seen from here since the back of the throne was to them. However the rest of the platform could be seen, so if he stepped down the slender and tall staircase that wound its way up to his throne then he would be visible. With the dwarves quiet and waiting, Legolas turned and made his way quickly down the last of the turns in the path, and up towards the throne. He didn't look up yet, a sign of respect, but he knew his father's voice as it called to him.

" _Legolas,_ " the king's voice called to him, softly. Speaking to him was one of the few times he ever spoke without the edge that made him feared as the king of the woodland realm. " _Where are the others? Is it done?_ "

" _It is done,_ " Legolas replied, quickly bowing his head and raising his hand slightly from his heart in respect to his father. He felt nervous, and he knew that his father could tell as he heard cloth rustle above. " _The spiders have been killed. However I have news. We did not find only the beasts there, but dwarves as well._ "

There was silence, never a good sign from his father. Though his father was kind to him it had been many days since he had been a child and his father had shown how much he loved him. No, this elf was now calculating and quiet. He was the king that led his people to battle, not his father. Not now. Legolas knew that this wasn't the kind of response he was looking for. Slowly, Legolas raised his eyes, turning them to his father. Thranduil was tall, almost a foot taller than him. His eyes were a silver blue color, far lighter than Legolas's own and far more unnerving. His hair was the same blonde of his own, but though Legolas wore warrior's braids in his own hair his father wore his hair long and unadorned at all by ornamentation.

The only thing that set upon his brow was his crown, which was made of wood twisted like thorns and antlers. It was a cruel and awe inspiring thing, showing the nature of Mirkwood itself more perfectly than anything else that the prince had seen, and dressed in autumn leaves. Thranduil wore a greenish-silver colored clothing, with intricate designs woven into the fabric, and he sat draped across his chair and holding onto his oaken staff as if to say that this was his realm. Across one of his arms, and the back of the chair, was a cloak of the same material that was orange on the inside. Slowly, Thranduil stood, allowing the cloak to slip away and laying his staff to the side. He did not come down the stairs yet, but he spoke in a carefully managed tone.

" _Dwarves you say?_ " he asked. " _How many?_ "

" _There are thirteen,_ " Legolas answered truthfully. " _and a halfling, that we have yet to locate._ " His father's head slowly tilted, as if like a cat ready to pounce.

" _And the leader of this band,_ " the elf king asked. " _Is he large, with black hair and a short beard?_ " His voice would not carry to the dwarves, and he was speaking Nandorain so they could not understand, but Legolas still blinked, something he rarely did.

" _Yes,_ " Legolas affirmed, not bothering to deny it.

Now, Thranduil began moving. He slowly made his way down the stairs of the throne, down to join his son on the floor in front of him. Legolas did not move, his eyes following his father as he made his way down the stairs. Even when he drew level to where it was now possible to view the dwarves, he hardly more than glanced in their direction to confirm the presence of the leader before turning his eyes back to his son. The dwarves wouldn't have noticed the glance. Legolas continued to simply stand there as slowly his father began to circle him, as if looking for a weakness to jump on. Legolas knew that it was more because he was nervous of the creatures now in his realm for some reason, though Legolas could not say why. It was possible too that his father was looking him over for any injuries. His father did tend to have a sort of intimidating presence, but he was used to that.

" _So,_ " Thranduil said, more of a growl entering his tone than before. " _Thorin Oakenshield is foolish enough to face the wrath of the dragon? You should have left them in the forest to starve, or better yet let the spiders kill them. I will not have my people put into danger because of the whims of a dwarf who cannot see past the greed in his own heart._ "

" _Father,_ " Legolas attempted. He rarely used the word 'Ada' in a public setting, and it served to push his father's attention back onto him. Thranduil's head immediately snapped towards Legolas's face in response, and knowing those who could not read elves well (meaning most likely the dwarves) they would read it as a threat rather than surprise. " _I do not think the dragon is what we should worry about._ "

" _And what do you mean by that?_ " his father asked, his tone now becoming gentler again as if to coax him into speaking. The dangerous purr was still there though, just hidden, and he stepped closer again. Legolas didn't even blink.

" _There was an orc,_ " he continued. Legolas wasn't sure why, but he felt a sudden desire to hide what was spoken to him as of now. It would only bring more suspicion on the dwarves, he realized, and he felt uneasy. " _and he spoke words that spread fear into my heart. I do not remember that of which he speaks, but I intend to look into it._ "

" _Is that all?_ " his father asked, but not in malice. " _an orc?_ "

" _A company of them,_ " the younger elf clarified. " _they seemed to be hunting the company of dwarves through our trees._ "

" _Then why should I allow them in my kingdom at all?_ " Thranduil asked.

This time, Legolas moved. He turned and raised his eyes to look his father directly into the face. It could often be considered disrespectful to do so, especially with an elf with a higher standing than your own. However this was his father and he didn't fear him. Indeed, though Thranduil looked surprised he seemed almost pleased by this trust in him. Though Legolas, at this distance, could see the emotion flicker through his face and knew long how to read his own race, there was no outward sign that anyone else could see.

There would be no telling his mood right now. His father slowly tilted his head again with a small smile that could to an outsider either mean promise of pain for disobedience or perhaps even a condescending one. Legolas knew however that his father was definitely not in either of those moods. Even so, he knew that his father had a reputation for becoming quickly angry and rash. So he measured his next words carefully, so as not to offer insult to him (since he was the one who had trained him for battle) and to make his father consider his words.

" _They were helpful in the battle,_ " Legolas clarified. " _They do not have a love for elves, but neither do we have a love for dwarves. Even though I was already aware of the enemy behind me, one of them did try to give a warning to me. They caused_ _no_ _harm to our people and even aided us in battling the orcs when they came from the trees. We might not have needed the help, but the fact remains that the orcs were willing to harm us as much as the dwarves, and that Thorin's company was willing to help us._ "

Thranduil slowly tipped his head back, as if looking down his nose at him and measuring him. It could have perhaps been perceived as threatening even to one of their own kind, but Legolas knew how to read his father when other elves saw him as unpredictable. It was not menacing, but rather he was considering his son's words carefully. Perhaps he was looking for an insult in the words, or truly thinking on what he had just learned. Thranduil wasn't known for being kind, and he often only rewarded a favor with a favor. When the silence dragged on for quite some time however Legolas could at least be reassured that he was thinking about this.

Finally, the elf king turned to the younger prince. He reached forward slowly, and laid his hand on his shoulder. His thumb rested just above his collarbone. Again, it was a move that perhaps could have been seen as danger, even to other elves. Legolas knew it however, because he had felt it before. It was a reassurance, a silent promise of protection. Thranduil could tell that Legolas was nervous, and the news that this orc had brought him was not one that he liked. He didn't like secrets, but he trusted his son more than any other council. Perhaps it was because, as others said, he was like his mother. In any case, Legolas met his father's eyes again, showing him understanding.

" _Very well,_ " he said. " _I will not throw them in the dungeons. But they cannot leave here. Not until I have decided what is to be done with them. I always return favors._ " Then his eyes darkened and his dramatic brows furrowed just a little as he looked suddenly towards the dwarves and raised his voice so it echoed powerfully through the halls. " _Bring the dwarves before me._ "

Thranduil's hand retreated from his throat quickly as if he had been burned, and he stepped in front of his son. Perhaps it was a move to seem more intimidating than he already seemed, but either way Legolas quickly stepped back and bowed his head again. Not in fear, but because it was a silent order from his father to step away and be silent for a while. He had already spoken on the behalf of the dwarves, so there was nothing more to be done other than wait and see how the dwarves themselves reacted. If it was without malice they may yet escape the dungeons. Even Legolas could not have said what he was planning, but at the very least they did have a chance now.

Thranduil's eyes followed the dwarves as they made their way at last before the throne, and the dwarf known as Thorin quickly pushed his way to the front of the group. It seemed to be in an act to protect the others -some of whom were obviously intimidated- that were behind him. He would make a fine leader, Legolas realized, even before his father slowly came closer as if to speak. Thranduil smiled, but it wasn't a kind smile that many elves were known for. There was too much darkness there, much like the forest that he dwelt within. There was beauty there, yes, and grace. But a shadow hung over his eyes, and the smile never reached them.

"Thorin Oakenshield," Thranduil began, slowly stepping closer to the dwarf and watching him. This time, Legolas knew that he was indeed measuring him. "It has been a long time since you or any of your kin have been out here in the Wilderland. To what," here he paused, turning and meeting the dwarf's eyes again in a clearly challenging manner. "do we owe this pleasure?"

Legolas knew one thing, and that was that his father was good at getting under people's skin. He really hoped that the dwarves had discussed how they were going to speak to the king because if he rose to his father's bait or angered him then there would be nothing that Legolas could do to help. Luckily they seemed to have come to some sort of agreement earlier, because Thorin was silent. He watched Thranduil with wary eyes, but his face betrayed no other emotion and he did not seem to be ready to leap forward to shove his own words and thoughts forward. That was a small blessing at least, because he knew his father held no love for dwarves.

"We are traveling," Thorin said, seemingly with some difficulty. "to Erebor. To reclaim our homeland."

"I do not think," Thranduil continued, undeterred. "that you have come for my advice. People seldom do. So why were you found within the eaves of my forest?"

"We did not," Thorin replied, a note of bitterness entering his voice. "we have already had our fill of elvish advice from Elrond of Rivendell. But this road was...recommended to us by Gandalf."

"And yet," Thranduil said, the threat now clearly in his voice as he rounded again on the dwarves, his icy eyes making several of them shiver. "you left the elvish road. You strayed too deep into my lands. With a pack of orcs hot on your heels. You have endangered my people with your very presence here, angered the spiders we seek to drive from our lands and bring other dangers with you. I should throw you into the dungeons and let your rot. One hundred years is but a blink in the life of an elf, after all."

This was clearly a threat, and any doubt about him was now erased in the minds of the dwarves. There was silence, as if everyone was holding their breath and waiting on his father to speak. The dwarves nervously shifted, glancing around at any of the elves and even for exits. If his father decided to throw them in the dungeon however there was little that they could actually do. Slowly, almost painfully so, Thranduil straightened his spine again and raised his head again, turning his eyes away from Thorin as if he wasn't worth his attention. His entire demeanor seemed to relax, as if he had been purposely trying to frighten the travelers who were quietly waiting in their halls. The elf king did not smile, or indeed show any weakness at all in front of strangers, but at the very least he was clearly no longer menacing. As he began to speak he closed his eyes and bowed his head a moment.

"However there is thanks to be given, perhaps," he continued in the silence. "for my son tells me that you were helpful against the spiders and the orcs. You have the sense at least to help clean up your own mess. And for that, I will reward you. You are to stay here, until I have decided what is to be done about you and the news that this orc seems to have given us. You will be watched, and there are places here that you cannot wander. But you will retain your freedom, for now."

"We cannot stay here," Thorin growled. "We only have a certain amount of time."

"That is not my concern," Thranduil replied. "If you behave well then perhaps you may find yourself on the road again in time to complete your quest. Until then however you will remain here. We have more pressing matters at hand than your quest."

Thranduil finally waved a hand, turning his back on the dwarves and turning his attention back towards his son. Legolas raised his eyes as his father drew close, noticing that Thorin and a few of the older dwarves looked rather concerned at the news that Thranduil found something more pressing than a dragon literally at his doorstep. The elven king didn't stop until he was a few feet away from him, and then he just silently stood there and looked at him. He did not offer comfort here, nor did he offer any sense at all that he loved his son more than just an effective member of his guard. Not in public at least, and even then not in the ways he once had before he closed himself off to the world.

" _Go,_ " he told him, his powerful voice giving no doubt even as the dwarves were led away that it was an order. " _begin your search in our texts. There is not much, but perhaps you will find what you are looking for._ "

Legolas simply nodded, turning and striding away from his father quickly. The question of what was happening was honestly weighing heavily on his mind, as well as what was said by the orc. In Quenya! It was not a language to be taken lightly in, and no doubt he spoke the words specifically because it would unnerve the elves. Then there was their invisible guest, if indeed the company of Thorin Oakenshield could be called that, and the matter that he had not told the full truth to his father. It might not end at all well, because his father didn't take well to such "betrayals". His unease must have shown more than he thought because even as he drew to the stairs to take another path than the one the dwarves were being led down, his father called to him.

" _And Legolas,_ " the king called, making the younger elf immediately pause and turn to look over his shoulder just slightly to let his father know he was listening. " _I will join you when I am able._ "

Legolas nodded his head, before turning and continuing on his way. To anyone else, even other elves of their kingdoms it might sound like a threat for keeping secrets. To Legolas though it promised safety. His father was not kind, nor was he wise. But he was his father and his presence had long been safety for the younger elf. Though he no longer ran to his father with fears of the night or because he had been injured in his play he still saw his father as safety. Their relationship was damaged, not as loving as it should have been nor as kind, but he still did love his father. Within a short time it could have been broken beyond almost any repair, but now his father had listened to his words and allowed the dwarves some small measure of freedom.

Perhaps there was hope for them yet.

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 **There's the end of chapter one. Obviously any scenes are going to change, and there will be some talking between the hobbit and the elvish king in the next chapter that will begin setting up the rest of this story and going towards the lonely mountain. Obviously I've changed things from the original work to fit with the world that I'm creating but I hope its enjoyable either way. Because this is going to be a fun adventure.**

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 **I have no idea how long this first story is going to be, but probably not that long considering Legolas doesn't have that much to do with the story itself. I'll be adding chapters and trying to kind of stretch it out a bit as much as possible in a narrative way, and there will be a few chapters at least before the elves completely leave Mirkwood and travel on their way back towards the Lonely Mountain. Its going to take some time, but eventually we'll actually get to the Battle of the Five Armies.**

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 **I haven't decided yet if there's going to be POV changes or not, but if there is, there will be one next chapter. And eventually we'll get to the LOTR and there will be a lot more to those stories because Legolas will be heavily involved in those. Anyway, if you've enjoyed or feel this is an interesting idea then feel free to leave me a review below.**


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